I was really annoyed by this book. It doesn't amaze that Larsson left his real life companion in such a mess: he strikes me as much better at striking heroic poises than actually reflecting on things. It's all very well being against the patriarchal institution of marriage, but you can and should make a will. In the same way, it's all very easy and feel-goody to condemn violence against women when it's perpetrated by psychopaths and nazis, it's a bit more difficult to tackle the everyday violence of your dad and uncle who may, otherwise, be "decent", "normal" people.

The direct experience I have of violent abusive men is that they are far more complicate and difficult to deal with than the serial killers Larsson depicts.

I'll also note that Salander can cut through complicated situations because she's largely a sociopath herself, and because the author heaps enough abuse on her to make her own frankly ghastly violence excusable, which strikes me as having a bit of a thumb on the scales.

Also, there is very little examination of systemic violence as opposed to individual, criminal one: a fairly disappointing failure from a supposedly lefty writer.

Apart from that, I found the writing atrocious. The movie I liked a lot more, because it cuts down on the number of women who inesplicably fall for Blomkvist, and is visually pretty arresting.